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In 1971, the NHRA Pro Stock title went to the guy who won
the NHRA World Finals and that year it was Mike Fons in the
Rod Shop Dodge Challenger. Fons was a deserving winner as
team owner Gil Kirk was super-competitive and spared no expense
in putting forward his biggest foot. Still, if Fons and Sox
were to go two out of three, my money would be on Sox.
At the '71 Ontario hoedown, which followed the World Finals,
I was mostly captivated by eventual Top Fuel runner-up John
Wiebe's debuting and prototype Donovan 417-powered dragster.
It, up 'til the final, was running low 6.50s while the rest
of the field was in the low 6.60s, and that for a fuel fiend
like me was an attention grabber.
Still, out of the corner of my eye, I saw that there was a
possibility that local guy might tangle with Ronnie Sox in
a somewhat rare meeting. Both had survived a pair of tough
first rounds. Leal had nailed East Coast flogger Carmen Rotonda
in round one, and then dished out a mid-9.50 to topple Indy
Pro Stock runner-up Stu McDade in Billy "the Kid"
Stepp's immaculate and hard-running Dodge. Sox skated past
his two rivals, one of which was Nicholson in his first pair
of go-rounds.
The PA voice, probably Bernie Partridge or Dave McClelland,
alerted fans to the pairings in the Ontario Pro semi-finals
and one of those was Leal vs. Sox. As actor James Coburn put
it slyly in "Our Man Flint," "My interest is
piqued."
Leal's Plymouth Duster was matching Sox stride-for-stride
and on paper, it appeared that he could give the boss a run
for his money. From my standpoint, I maybe had seen Sox lose
just once from the time the Pro Stock category was introduced
and that was the inaugural showing in Pomona, California where
Jenkins beat him with a slower ET. Wouldn't it be something
if the kid could take Sox.
In the early 1970s, fans stood up (as they still do to a degree)
for every pro heat or excuse for one. Two drunks could be
wrestling in the seats throwing up on each other and they'd
all stand to see it ... come to think of it, so would I.
Anywho ... the highly anticipated pairing brought them to
the line. I was at mid-track, so it was hard to see who left
first, but the crowd seemed to roar as one (what else?) as
they took off. They looked dead even as they scorched the
Ontario asphalt. It seemed that at every hit of the torque-flite
the Leal fans would scream, 'C'mon Butch!!!" and by the
same token and in all fairness, so would the "Soxers"
for their hero. (You know everyone loves a winner.) At half-point,
it looked like the somewhat impossible was happening as Leal
appeared to put a fender on Sox. It was hard to tell who was
first from where I was sitting, but the win lights blinked
that indeed Leal had taken the measure of Sox ... by the numbers
9.553 to 9.558 and it was not lost on the 20,-to-30,000 fans
who were at the track as they bellowed their approval.
UNFORTUNATELY ...
...their uplift was soon preceded by a letdown. In the shut-off
area, Sox congratulated Leal, but noticed that the Californian
was running wheelie bars, something he had not done in the
first two frames. NHRA rules stated that no more than 55-percent
of the car weight can hit the rear wheels and Sox wanted Leal
to be weighed so that they could be on the safe side. The
bars put Leal behind them as the weighed and re-weighed car
poundage indicated that 57-percent of the weight was on the
rear wheels ... hence, Leal was disqualified and Sox would
go the final and meet (and later beat) Herb McCandless in
Greg Millwee's Duster.
When this fact was announced, the crowd did not take to it
well, booing somewhat vociferously. Still, like the Pope,
the scales were infallible.
Shit (I know there goes 10,000 bucks).
All in all, it was a very memorable race, one that for this
viewer is so rare in this current day push into the boring
tide of corporate sameness and sterility. 
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